Boring
by psychedelic aya
Summary: Wild ARMs 3. Virginia had the grandest idea of a way to curing this boring and smelly day. And no, it was not through means of a bath, or anything that involved fixing body odor. It wasn't streaking, either. But still, it was good.


**Authoress' Notes:** Whoa! It's been so long, I guess. So long since I wrote anything. BLAME IT ON SCHOOL! Please homework _die_. But then again, school is where we learn and stuff, so it can't be helped. Hmph. Curses. Which reminds me… I have Biology things to do. (Nooo. Errr.)

**Disclaimer:** Admit it. Gallows _wants_ me to own Wild ARMs. But then again, since Gallows wants me to, I can't. Simply because I have no money. But Clive said he'll lend me some if I made him look pretty and SEXY in a fic, and so thus is the result of my twisted delusional brain.

Read at your own risk. Sorry if it's pure nonsense, though.

---

**Boring.**  
_By psychedelic aya_

One word.

One simple word to describe the usual hot, idle, summer day.

Of course, if it were Clive who would try to describe it, not only _one word_ would be used—but complex structures of sentences would be formed, with proper grammar and tons of vocabulary… and it would probably leave everyone confused.

So instead, for more clarity and understanding, Gallows will say the one word that describes the everyday life of a fugitive in Filgaia.

One word.

"Booooorrrrriiiing."

The Baskar priest lazily waved the fan in front of his face, as if it would save him from the scorching heat. "Today is a boring day."

From his rude position, with his legs on top of the table and his hands behind his neck, Jet scowled. "That's what you said yesterday."

"But it wasn't as hot yesterday," Gallows contemplated. Sweat trickled down from his temple, and in a sudden rush of curiosity, he sniffed the air around him. "Man, do I stink!" A hearty laugh followed his statement. "I smell like I drowned in sweat!"

Jet rolled his eyes. "Must you announce every damned event that takes place in your body?"

Clive, from behind his book, merely gave off a little smile. "Maybe you should take a bath." He suggested. Then, with an offhanded glance to Jet as well, "And I mean both of you."

Gallows looked offended. "A bath? HAH!" It was as if he wanted to say, "I don't need a bath!" But then again, the whole of Filgaia would probably retaliate. And they wouldn't want chaos in a planet that they just saved, right? "And who hasn't smelled himself, huh, Professor Winslett?" Immediately, he stood from his chair and went over the Clive's space and started sniffing. "Eeeew! You smell like…" He wanted to say an insult, but the aroma that reached his nose was far from expected. "…a garden!" Surprised? "Eew, Clive! You smell like a _girl_!"

Clive pushed his glasses up, as usual. "That's because I take a bath everyday." He resumed to sticking his nose in a book. "Besides, Catherine refuses to stay next to me if I smell otherwise."

Ah, the wonderful life of married men.

Jet had a small smirk on his face as he lifted his legs and placed it flat on the floor. "At least Clive doesn't smell like he's a frickin' rotting boar… unlike some stinky others I could name…"

It was a moment before Gallows realized the insult was meant for him. "Why you—?!" Two fists were raised. "Who's a rotting boar, huh!?!"

Before anyone was able to make any reply, monotone footsteps came from the stairs; someone was descending.

It could only be one person.

"Its so booooorrrinnnng!" Virginia complained, as stretching out her arms. "Boring, boring, boring." As she reached the final step of the staircase, she jumped down like a little child, trying to energize herself. "Geez… its so hot and its so boring…" She walked lazily to the seat beside Gallows. When she sat herself down, her first comment was, "Hey, what stinks?"

Jet's lips twitched upwards.

"It smells like a rotten egg…" Their leader continued, her eyebrows inquiring.

The twitching lips suddenly formed into a smirk. "Rotten egg, rotten boar; there's not much of a difference, now, is there?" If it were Jet-like, he would've laughed his face off seeing Gallows slowly fuming up, his face getting all tight—looking as if he were constipated. But laughing, of all things, was_ far _from being Jet-like. But still, that didn't stop him from teasing the big oaf. "Right, Gallows?"

The Baskar was turning red. "Damn you, punk!" He said through gritted teeth. Then, unable to take it anymore, he stood up from his place and lunged at the younger boy.

"I'll show you who smells better!"

Virginia, for the most part, was surprised. Her emerald eyes immediately darted to Clive. "Uhhh… did I miss something?"

The sniper shook his head. "Nothing worth telling about." He shot a glance to Gallows and Jet, who seemed to be strangling each other with words of who was more fragrant. "…unless you want to hear about the problems of men and body odor."

There was a disgusted look on the young lady's face. "Ugh. I'd rather not, thanks very much."

Clive merely smiled back at her before absorbing himself back in his book. Which, of course, Virginia thought, was also _boring_.

The day was boring. But that was already explained beforehand, but repeating it would let everyone have it instilled in their minds.

BORING BORING BORING.

Virginia would be bummed out by today's _boring_ nature.

"Just admit it. You smell like the manure of an Orc."

"NUH-UH! YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS THAT I SMELL LIKE ROSES!"

"Whatever."

With Gallows and Jet's bickering in the background, Virginia could feel her sweat trickling down inside her dress and at the back of her head.

Now, as she thought about it, with _all_ the wardrobe she was wearing now (which, of course, was the cause of her sweat and more insulation and therefore more heat) … being a girl was _boring_. You had to wear all these things over your little body. Which, did _not at all_ contribute to battle agility and speed, and also made things more _complicated_ when it came to hot days.

Sure, they say it's for _decency_. But so what, right? It was boring.

That's why, all of a sudden, alongside with the shouts of Jet and Gallows about their pungent problems, Virginia had the grandest idea of a way to curing this boring and smelly day.

And no, it was not through means of a bath, or anything that involved fixing body odor.

And NO, Virginia was not planning to make everyone go streaking naked, either.

But still, the idea was good.

A giggle escaped the girl's lips.

"…Cross-dressing."

---

Girls dressing in boy's clothes, though labeled as "tomboys", often looked cute.

But boys dressing in girl's clothes… well now, that's a totally different story.

"I think I actually look _purty_," Gallows complimented himself as he stared at the full-length mirror. "I mean, I know Shane could've done better, but man!" There was a sinister grin on his face. "Do I look _hot_ or what?" He adjusted his fake breasts. "Man, I'm so hot I could eat myself!"

That _definitely_ did not sound right.

Everyone within a hundred meter radius could've just had a heart attack with those words.

Jet passed by with a sarcastic comment. "Hot enough to be burned at stake, yes." Gallows as a woman did not appeal to him in any way at all. " …You look like a witch." Witch, _no_. (It was a description too flattering, still.) Old-body-dug-out-of-the-grave, _yes_.

It looked like a debate would start again. "And you think you look better?" The flame of competition was in the Baskar's eyes. But when he saw his comrade, his jaw fell to the floor.

As a girl, Jet was drop-dead gorgeous.

And when I say "_drop-dead_"… I mean that literally.

"HAHAHA!" Gallows had to hold in his laughter as he rolled on the floor. "Y-you look… y-you look… HAHAHA!" He couldn't contain himself. Because oddly, the punk reminded him of none other than: "GRANNY!"

Virginia shook her head disbelievingly as she came out of the changing room. "Now, now, Gallows, that wasn't very nice." And besides, she had done Jet's make-up herself! How the heck could he turn up like _Halle_, of all people?! "I think Jet looks adorable!"

Adorable? "Never, in my whole life did I ever think I'd be frickin'…" Jet shuddered. "…adorable."

"But you are!" Virginia couldn't stop her giggling. Then, in a swift twirl, she said, "Now, how about me?"

Even just in her normal outfit, Virginia had the power to trigger something in Jet that would make all the blood rush to his face. It was a foreign feeling to him—odd and strange indeed—how it made his stomach do full summersaults when clearly stomachs weren't supposed to do that because stomachs did not have limbs… or how it made his feet glued to the floor… and now, with her wearing _his_ clothes…

Jet could feel his whole body go numb. His heart stopped and his throat tightened. "Uhhh…"

There was an inquisitive look in Virginia's eyes. "So…?"

She was wearing his shirt and scarf, and her hair was hidden beneath something that resembled Werner's worn out hat. She wasn't wearing his pants, though, but instead she replaced it with skimpy shorts—kind of like the one Alfred wore… only shorter. Much shorter. More… _girlish_.

Was she really aiming to look like a guy?

Jet found himself at a loss for words. She was sure showing a hell lot of skin in that outfit.

'_Don't look, dammit! Avoid idiotic chatterboxes… yep, that's it alright… avoid damned, noisy, stupid, sexy chatterboxes…'_

…So even androids had the capability of thinking like Gallows, eh?

Speaking of the so-called priest; one look at his leader sent him rolling all over the floor again—and thus, the poor poor rug he was rolling over acquired his smell. Such would be the cause of later events, wherein everyone would wonder why the heck the whole room became reeking with a terrible scent. (Of course, Virginia, Jet and Clive would blame Gallows for fun, but they would never know that it was _really_ his fault, now, would they?)

Emerald eyes glared at the Baskar rolling on the floor, but when her gaze averted to Jet, sudden worry filled her expression. "Are you okay?" She instinctively placed a hand on his forehead. "You're all red… is it because of the heat?"

"I-I'm okay…" He murmured in reply, trying hard not to look at Virginia in what was she was wearing. His head started to ache and the sudden rush of blood made him dizzy. "I-I think I need to sit down…"

"Awww… the punk can't handle girls in scanty outfits, eh?"

"Shut the hell up, Gallows."

Virgnia sighed in disappointment. "Does this mean I_ don't_ look like a boy?" She asked, while turning around again, observing herself. "I think I look pretty okay… oh!" A sudden idea struck her. "I should go out and test this outfit, don't you think?"

She was skipping happily to the door when Jet panicked.

"Dammit, no!" He exclaimed all of a sudden, making everyone surprised. All eyes were suddenly on him. "Uh…" He could feel his face burning again. The wasteland heat plus Virginia definitely did him no good. And so, trying to defend himself before Gallows could make up any theories, "The heck… what I mean is, I think you better stay here…" He searched for words, but what he really wanted to say was, "Damn it! No way in hell I'm going to let you go out in _that_!"

But of course, he wouldn't even be uttering anything _close_ to what he _really wanted_ to say.

Or so he thought.

The next thing he new, Virginia's green eyes were at its widest. "Did you say something, Jet?"

'_Did I?'_

Life was confusing.

His amethyst eyes rose. "Uhhh…" Let's take a_ wild_ guess. "…no?"

By the way Gallows laughed, it could only mean otherwise. And besides, Virginia never did smile that widely before…

Only one word came into Jet's thoughts. _'Shit.'_

"You know, I'm enjoying all this embarrassing lovey-dovey stuff you two are putting yourself through," Gallows commented as he stifled in more laughter. Seeing Jet blushing like that was more than enough payback for all the punk's insults at him. "But," A knowing grin spread across his stupid face. "I'd like to see the last member of our team in his cross-dressing chronicles."

At the implied mention of Clive, Virginia burst into laughter. "C-Clive?! Tee hee!" She held her stomach and continued her fit of effervescent giggles. "I don't think he'll be coming out any time soon…"

But then, unexpectedly, "Virginia, I'm actually quite done…"

All three pairs of eyes averted to the changing room's doorway, where a gorgeous blonde stood. Her face was painted with heavy make-up, her lips were as red as a luscious rose; and even from where she stood, they could smell her fragrant perfume. She was wearing a micro mini-skirt and a tight white blouse.

'_Those definitely did not come from my wardrobe,'_ Virginia thought. _'Then where did they come from?'_

No one really knew now, did they?

"Whoa, Clive…" Maybe the world had just decided to make everything twisted. "Is that… r-really you?"

Since his glasses were off, Clive merely sheepishly scratched his nose. "I am used to the art of dolling-up one's self because I always watch Catherine in the morning when she applies all her powder and lipstick…" A small painted smile came across the sniper's face. "So… is my make-up too heavy?"

Meanwhile, a passer-by without a name (because I can't think of any at the moment) stared incredulously from outside the window at what seemed to be four lunatics without the slightest bit of a fashion sense. _'The art of "dolling-up" one's self?' _He stared at the blonde who said the words._ 'Where do you get your vocabulary? But whoa! She's cute!' _But then, his eyes traveled to the big brute lady with thick brown hair and unproportionate measurements. _'I think I'm going to puke…!'_

Poor nameless passer-by. He vomited the whole way home. Er, but anyway.

Gallows (a.k.a the big brute lady with thick brown hair and unproportionate measurements) was still in shock. "Maybe I should've put make-up too. I've always wanted to say that line…"

Jet rolled his eyes. "Just goes to prove that you're gay..." And also that the whole world is friggin' out of order.

"Heck, you know, if any guy were to look like Clive as a woman, I'd go out with them and be gay any day…"

Virginia gave out an exasperated sigh. She could already fantasize the headlines of the newspaper for the next day. "BASKAR'S SECRET REVEALED: THE TRUE NATURE OF WHAT IT MEANS TO COME FROM THE LINEAGE OF PRIESTS"

Heck, take a look at Shane—he was practically a girl already! Sure, a boy at heart and soul, but a girl at appearance. And you know, if you think about it, no one really sees your heart and soul anyway…

Clive smiled awkwardly. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Gallows, but I'm already married."

"C'mon, let's go out, just once!" The Baskar shaman went to his knees. "Pretty please?"

Virginia looked away, appalled. "I cannot believe they're even having that kind of conversation…"

Jet gave a look of accusation to her. "And so, pray tell, who's idea was it in the first place anyway?!" Was this her way of getting back on them because they refused to fill-in her feminine needs? He suddenly remembered the tragedy that happened when Virginia wanted to have some "girl-talk" with someone. Of course, of all people, she chose Gallows to discuss her_ girly_ needs. The Baskar had been grinning stupidly the whole day after that…

'_I don't even want to know what the hell they talked about.'_

Their leader merely laughed in reply. "I think the day became less boring though, now that you think about it."

"Ah, so you think watching your two teammates hit on each other is simply damned interesting?"

"Far from it."

"Thought so."

There was an uncharacteristic smirk on Virginia's face. "…It's downright wicked!"

Jet sighed. "There's never a dull moment with you." He buried his face in his hands, wondering what he had done to make him deserve such loonies for friends.

On the other hand, Gallows still continued desperately courting Clive.

"Pllleeaaase, babe, just one date?"

'_Babe?'_ Virginia could feel her knees go weak at the statement. '_Far out of hand, Gallows.'_

Clive flipped his long blonde locks and shook his head haughtily. "I'm sorry, but I don't go out with girls…" He winked slowly to Virginia, who had chosen to sit beside Jet to protect herself from the insanity.

Far out of hand, indeed.

A costume immediately flew to the sky. Gallows was as stupid looking as ever again (meaning: he was back to normal). "I'm a guy now!" He shouted with pride.

"Hmmm…" Long eyelashes were batted. "But I'm married…"

Jet shook his head disbelievingly and took of his costume as well. With a disturbed grunt, he leaned back on the couch and tried to take away the disturbing images Clive and Gallows were giving his head. "He's actually biting the bait…"

Respect for Clive before: 95 percent. Now…

'_Earning that back will take a damn miracle now. Like if he cures the common cold or something.'_

The Baskar, with reasons still unknown, was desperate. "I'm sure Katherine wouldn't mind!" He latched himself onto the sniper's legs and began rubbing his cheek against the rough, hairy and manly skin. (Although he was probably imagining it to be flawless and smooth. But, oh well. Dreaming is free, as they say.)

A voice sounded by the doorway, clearly feminine, clearly surprised, clearly disgusted, clearly enraged. "I wouldn't mind what?"

It would be appropriate to mention that all the insanity was, indeed, occurring at Clive's family home.

The scientist's eyes jolted at seeing the person he both feared and loved, standing before them, holding a kitchen knife.

Why was it that the female counterparts had to do the cooking? Holding all those sharp utensils made them scarier than they already were.

"CLIVE WINSLET!"

And so Katherine charged, kitchen knife in hand.

"BUT WE WERE BORED!"

And so Clive and Gallows ran, skirts in hand. (Don't ask how Gallows still had a skirt on. It was just, well, _there_.)

…What happened next would be a mystery, but it was surely to prove who wore the pants in the Winslett family.

By saying "pants", meanings could be literal, given the current situation.

Lucky Kaitlyn was safe and sound, at the closed perimeters of her school, where she could neither hear her father's screams for help nor the shouts that would end the ever concluding, _boring_ day.

Virginia and Jet, by now, had left the home and concluded that the world was dying and that they better make use of the time they have left—because they surely lost a lot of it when they saw a grown man rub his face against another grown man's leg.

Ah, sometimes, imagination is disturbing.

But then again, without it, life could be summed up to _one word_.

One word alone.

Boring.

---

**Authoress' Notes:** Where did this come from? It's not even funny. Aya, what were you thinking? Oh well! I hope you liked it! (And yes, I'm bored. Whoo.)


End file.
